Conversely
by outsiders
Summary: Ryoma wasn't acting weirdly or anything. His friends just had exorbitantly ludicrous imaginations. [RyomaSakuno, if you squint] oneshot


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_**Dedicated to Dwilivia, whose slipper sitting in the midst of my textbooks, mocks them.**_

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_To handle yourself, use your head; To handle others, use your heart. _

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* * *

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_**Conversely**_

220405

The sun blazed, its scorching white light blinding him momentarily. Echizen Ryoma tugged the beck of his signature cap further down, grunting in annoyance.

Thwack!

The neon green ball sped through the air, colliding with the grey concrete wall to bounce once on the ground, leaping straight towards him.

Ryoma shifted his position, moving towards the left. The racket in his hand met the oncoming ball right in the middle, delivering it once more towards the wall with measured strength.

Thwack!

His grip around the handle tightened, and his eyes narrowed as they gave the flying ball a calculating glare. Beads of perspiration trickled down his neck.

Tennis.

Thwack!

Tennis required concentration, of which he had plenty, when he put his mind to it. He did not deem certain issues important enough to deal with, and to those he did not deign to consider.

Thwack!

But tennis - tennis was different. It was what he dreamt, breathed, smelt, contemplated, lived. It was his everything.

Thwack!

He would not even think about anything other than it. Tennis was his life.

Thwack!

So he found himself wondering why it was that -

Thwack!

"Ryoma-kun!"

He whipped around so fast his head spun. Long, long pigtails that flowed all the way to her knees, the overly large eyes that always seem to glimmer worriedly, eyes that harderned when she was giving him a lesson in respect and proper etiquette, eyes that were widening right this moment.

"Ryo-"

Wham!

Ryoma's eyes had time to widen before the tennis ball sliced through the still air, connecting jarringly with the side of his head. The only three words that his brain could process were 'what the hell'. He stumbled backwards haltingly. That had hurt.

She was by his side in an instance.

"Oh my. Are you okay Ryoma-kun? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to distract you!" Her cheeks were flushed, and the expression on her countenance showed lip-biting anxiety.

Ryoma grunted and inched his head slightly. He must have seemed like a complete and utter idiot. How many people were hit by their own tennis ball while practising against a wall? Heat flared up in his face, and he tugged at his cap with an impatient hand.

"I'm fine." He bit out testily. That was simply degrading. Mortifying humilitaion was an emotion he was unaccustomed to. Ryoma Echizen did not get embarrassed.

"I'm going home." With that, he gathered what remaining scraps he had of his pride, grabbed his stuff, turned on his heel, and all but ran out of the tennis court. A stunned Ryuzaki Sakuno stared after his rapidly retreating back.

Ryoma Echizen did not get embarrassed.

But then again, he did not hit himself with tennis balls either.

* * *

Ryoma shifted the backstrap further up his shoulder, trying somehow to get the textbooks to weigh less.

Waking up early in the morning to carry back-straining books to a place where all he did was attempt to contain his yawns and force his head from dropping to the table was not exactly his picture of enjoyment.

The buzzing noise of excited schoolmates assailed his ears. Ryoma winced.

Anyone with voices that chirpy should be outlawed. Especially at unholy hours in the mornings.

"Hey Ryoma!" Horio clambered up to his side, visage alight with joy. Another blistering idiot.

Incessant spiel right next to him and feeling more than just a tad irritated, Ryoma stepped into the classroom, moving towards his seat.

He placed his bag by his side and took out his pencil case, a yawn already forming in his throat. Did Horio never shut up? As impossible as it was, it seemed like it.

"Sakuno."

Before he was even concious of it, his head was up and he found himself searching through the milling students with circumspect.

He found what he was looking for, standing near the entrance of the entrance, her science textbook nestled comfortably in her arm.

"Would you like to go on a date with me?" Some brown-haired imbecile thought that Sakuno had nothing better to do than waste her time going out on a date with him.

He should know better. Sakuno would not do that.

"I'm sorry Jou-kun. I have to study for the Mathematics test." Sakuno seemed overly worried that she had offended him. Ryoma resisted the urge to snort in barely concealed triumph.

"Oh. That's fine. We could go next time."

A group of giggling girls walked straight through his line of vision, and combined with the noise they brought with them, he missed her reply completely. Frustration quickened his breath. Craning his neck in annoyance did nothing to aid him.

When they finally got out of the way, all he saw was Sakuno smiling at the other guy, before turning away and heading towards her place.

His heart twisted angrily at the sight, and he felt resentment curl in him. He bit the inside of his lip, quelling the compulsive urge to head over to Sakuno and demand an explanation, because such a line of action was plain thoughtless; completely irrational. Ryoma Echizen was nothing if not rational. He certainly did not get jealous.

* * *

Ryoma was restless.

It was painfully blatant that he was playing below his game, and suspicious whispers sifted through the crowd of spectators like a passing breeze.

He did not know the name of the person he was playing against, and he did not particularly care. The face across him looked unsure, as if he had expected something more than what he was receiving.

Ryoma let out a frustrated breath.

The ball was bounced on the floor three times, before he leaned backwards slightly, tossing it high in the air.

His mind was not fully concentrated on the game, and he knew it. The thing was, no matter how hard he tried to force himself to focus, his body refused. There was a haze of lethargy weighing down his movements, and he just could not give his complete attention to the game.

Something was missing.

The ball seemed to hover in the air for a moment, its edges glinting in the sun, before rushing down towards him. Ryoma Echizen arched his back and swung. The racket connected with the ball, sending it towards his opponent. The thing was, it was a normal shot; there was absolutely nothing spectacular, and no one excepted a normal shot from Ryoma Echizen. Out of the corner of his eye, Ryoma caught Tezuka flinch almost imperceptibly.

Annoyance turned his stomach, and he released another quick breath.

The whole thing was idiotic. He could not pin-point why his performance left much to be desired, and now everyone present thought there was something wrong with him. His game may have been a little off, but there was nothing wrong with him.

Idiotic.

The opponent sent the ball back over the net. He readied himself.

"Ryoma-kun!"

Ryoma turned. He could have recognized the anxious lilt of her voice anywhere, the way she always seemed troubled and afraid that she had done something wrong.

Sakuno was at the fence dividing the tennis court from the outside, nibbling her lower lip and eyeing him with an apologetic half-smile.

'You're late,' his mind grumbled childishly. The thought never left his lips. She probably got lost again, he thought with a derisive sniff, or at least what was meant to be a derisive snort. The mental image made his lips twitch in grudging affection.

Forgotten, the ball bounced past Ryoma, rolling to a stop in front of Sakuno.

He turned back to the game, and the words 'you're going down' echoed across his mind. For some reason, he felt the need to pulverise the guy across the net.

From the sidelines, Fuji smirked knowingly.

"Game, set - Echizen Ryoma!"

* * *

"Oi, Echizen is doing it again." Momoshiro whispered in the general direction of his lounging teammates, eyeing the junior with a suspicious look. They moved closer towards him.

"Doing what?" Kikumaru whispered back excitedly.

"Spacing out. Day dreaming. Not paying attention." They turned to observe him.

Ryoma was bouncing a tennis ball on the ground carelessly, racket slung over his shoulder.

"Something is not right." Oishi stated worreidly. What was wrong with Echizen? By now, he would normally be in a heated match with one of them, or at least against the wall.

"You know what I think?"

Kaido hissed at Momoshiro, showing clearly what he thought of him.

"I think Ryoma has got a crush." Momoshiro went on importantly, pointedly ignoring Kaido.

"I do not Momo-sempai." Ryoma droned lazily.

Momoshiro fliched. He should have known better than to underestimate Echizen's hearing.

"Everyone, on the court now. 20 laps!" Tezuka's sharp voice cut through the group of boys, and they started moving towards the perimeter of the court.

Momoshiro jogged up behind Ryoma.

"Someone's in denial." He sang, reaching out with his right hand to poke Ryoma's shoulder.

"I am not." Ryoma snapped back, shrugging his shoulder out of Momoshiro's reach.

"You're just proving my point." He stated smugly, then ran past Ryoma, gleely aware of the intense glare that Ryoma was trying to burn through him.

Momo-sempai was wrong. Horribly wrong. He did not have a crush.

"Ryoma is in love!" Momoshiro shouted back teasingly.

Momo-sempai was going to pay for that. He was going to smack him with the tennis ball and knock him out.

It was taboo to say that anything Ryoma Echizen did was stupid, because Ryoma Echizen did not do stupid things.

He did not do stupid things, especially things like falling in love.

* * *

_finis_

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End file.
